


soft mornings

by Khismer



Series: rika week 2k17 [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: After End, F/F, rika week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 04:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khismer/pseuds/Khismer
Summary: sometimes doubts creep in. for day 1 of rika week on tumblr - daily life.





	soft mornings

It's not until Rika reaches over to your side of the bed only to be met with empty air that she realizes that she's woken up alone.

Her hand falls with no small measure of disappointment. She smoothes her hand over the slight indentation in the bed next to her. Still warm? Or, maybe that's wishful thinking.

If she concentrates, she can hear water running over the soft hum of the air conditioning, though she can't tell if that's the shower or the sink running. You _could_ have been gone for moments, but you might have been up much longer.

There's a strange twinge of sorrow at that thought. But, what, would she really have preferred that you woke her up before showering just so she wouldn't feel lonely?

...well. Yes, actually.

She has to push her hair out of the way so she push herself up to grab her phone from the bedside table. She huffs softly when she sees the screen, and sets it back down. It's a good half hour before her alarm is set to go off, and she is alone.

She rolls and spreads out on the bed, pulling your pillow into her arms and resting her chin on it.

Rika hasn't yet managed to shake the feeling that she has to soak up as much of this as she can, these moments of _you_ \-- the scent of you on the pillow, the knowledge that you were sleeping next to her until only recently, and you'll be here again soon -- because if she doesn't, if she lets herself slip even a little, that'll be it.

Whenever she wakes up to find you gone, when you're late to come home, she feels it -- the cold certainty settling in her stomach, telling her that you're not coming back.

There's never anger, never sharp terror, just... hollow resignation. Really, she should be lucky it's lasted even this long.

She buries her face in the pillow, tightening her grip on it. The comfort of your scent seems to taunt her now.

It doesn't matter how many times you take her hands in yours and murmur that you won't leave her, not now, not ever. It doesn't help to take note of your things intertwined with hers, the calendar you mark shared plans in with joy. It doesn't stop even after the unbroken streak of _you_ , coming home each night to hold her close.

She's not sure if that fear will ever stop. Maybe that's a fitting punishment.

She can't say it's not what she would deserve. What she should expect, for that matter, and --

Something new. She pauses, lifting her head and angling to better hear this new noise.

You're... singing.

Well. Caterwauling, more like. Maybe not intentionally bad, but certainly very loud, and with not very much attention to keeping at a consistent pace, and not... good.

The water shuts off, and she can hear your clearer, now.

And... worse.

Something you'd heard on the radio the other day and couldn't get out of your head, even though you had _no_ memory of the name of the song, or the artist, or most of the lyrics. What a clever and... _loud_ use of 'la-dee-dah's you're using now. 

She laughs into the pillow.

When the bathroom door opens, she turns her head quickly, as if by hiding her face she can hide her thoughts from you.

You're still humming that tune as you pad softly across the room.

"Good morning, starshine." 

The bed dips as you seat yourself on the edge of it, and then you run your fingers through her hair, combing softly from behind her ear down her back, clearing a space to kiss her cheek.  

She leans up into it, quickly winding her arms around you to pull you back when you begin to lean away. You laugh as she snuggles into your chest.

"Careful, babe, I'm still kind of damp."

Rika only wraps her arms tighter around you, pulling herself closer so she's half in your lap. You resume coming through her hair with your fingers as you say, "I heard back from that bistro on the corner a little while ago. They think they can fit us in next month, a Friday around 6. I know it's kind of a tight fit with your work, but I figured it might be worth a shot, so I said yes. What d'you think?"

She hums a noncommittal note and you laugh again. "Oh, don't tell me I'm lulling you back to sleep."

You make as if to peer closer at her, and in that moment, she feels -- guilty, in the face of your easy joy. She averts her eyes.

She can hear more than see your frown. "...okay, babe, is something up? You're being awful quiet."

She hesitates, and this is evidently enough to incite your worry. "Dreams again?"

Rika winces, but says, "mmm. No." Not this night, anyway.

"But... _something_ is bothering you," you say. And then you pause. "--me?"

You frown, and Rika wants to cry. She sits up, reaching for you with a faltering hand. "No," she says, "it's not you, it's--" The idea of living without you. Who she would be if you disappear. The question of if she deserves you, if she deserves anything anymore. Why you stay here with her.

You close your eyes and shake your head. When you look at her again, your gaze is soft. "I love you."

Her heart flutters, as it does every time you say it, as it might every time you say it from now until -- well, whenever you stop saying it. 

You cup her face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over her cheeks. "And I care about you. So... talk to me? When you're feeling like this." She clasps her hands over your arms as you continue to stroke her face, a lifeline. "...you shouldn't have to be shouldering it alone. I don't know... what exactly is eating you up right now. But I love you, and I want you to be happy, and if there's any way I can make this easier for you, then -- well. It's always better together, right?"

It's Rika turn to take your face in her hands now. She studies you, from your sympathetic eyes to the slightly-awkward tilt of your lips, unsure if you've said the right thing. She feels fit to burst with love, and she leans her forehead against yours, closing her eyes against the sudden sting of tears.

"Okay," she murmurs. There's an urge to stay there, to just hold you as long as possible, but she pulls back with reluctance so she can look you in the eye. "I love you," she says, barely audible, and her chest aches at the way your smile blooms. "And I'll... try." The thought of telling you just how much she fears you leaving is -- not a pleasant one. But... together.

She can't say she's not still worried, at the least, but here, with you, she feels safe and warm.

"...now," you say, "if you're really angling to spend all day in bed, I can think of something a little more fun to do here--"

And Rika laughs.

"No," she says, "too much to get done to stay cooped up in here all day." It's with no small measure of reluctance that she pulls back from you and rises from the bed.

And then she narrows her eyes at you with a smile. "But, maybe later tonight..."

"O _ho_ , is that so?" The hand she presses over her mouth isn't enough to suppress the start of a smile as you perk up in interest.

She tosses a wink over her shoulder as she heads to the bathroom door.

"Tease," you laugh, and she just grins.

**Author's Note:**

> these are not entirely healthy thoughts but they are the thoughts of someone in a transition stage between terrible coping methods and ways of dealing with mental illness and good methods, wading through the difficulty of that in-between period, thank u for coming to my ted talk


End file.
